


Why Do Birds

by orphan_account



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Toews has uncomfortable feelings about Patrick Kane. He tries to be reasonable about these things. It doesn't work very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Do Birds

**Author's Note:**

> it really is bikram-yoga-hot in chicago this summer, if you were wondering.
> 
> title from "close to you," by the carpenters (except the version i always think of is the creeptacular one from mirrormask).

"The thing is," Johnny says. "The thing is..." He swirls the tequila left in his glass, then decides to drink it instead.

"What's the thing, Tazer?" Kaner asks, laughing.

"The thing is..." And Johnny loses his nerve. Again. "That I need another drink."

"I'll get this round," Kaner says, and disappears.

Johnny definitely doesn't watch him go, because that would be sappy and weird. He does have a really grabbable ass, though. Not that Johnny wants to grab it.

"Here." Kaner drops the next two glasses on the table, where they slosh a little.

"Thanks, buddy." Johnny takes a long drink of his, tilting his head back. When he puts it down, Kaner is looking at him expectantly. "What?"

"You've been starting a sentence for like an hour now," Kaner says. "I was kind of hoping you'd finish it someday before we retire."

"Oh. Right." Shit. Now he really has to say something. Johnny buys himself a little time by finishing off his drink, and then his head is kind of spinning, so he just blurts out, "You're like a bird."

Kaner blinks at him blurrily. "I'm -- what? What kind of bird? Like a hawk?"

"No, like... with bright-colored feathers." This is not going well. The image in Johnny's head is crystal-clear, unlike... anything else. When he was a kid in Winnipeg, his friend Jeremy had a pet parakeet that liked to fly around the living room and imitate ringing phones. One day, Jeremy said, "Want to hold him?" and unceremoniously dropped the little bird into Johnny's hand.

Johnny looked down at the bird, and the bird looked up at Johnny. It seemed to like him holding it, for some reason -- it didn't struggle or anything, just blinked contentedly -- and Johnny's heart felt like the bird, like it had folded wings of its own.

"I'm _drunk_ ," Johnny tells Kaner instead. "I'm drunk, and you're a bird. I could hold you in my hand, and maybe you wouldn't fly away."

Kaner looks at him like he's said something deep. "Maybe I wouldn't," he agrees.

"But you could," Johnny says. He doesn't know why he's still talking. "If you wanted to. Because you have wings."

Kaner drapes himself around Johnny. "Do you think my wings are pretty, Tazer?" he asks, his head somewhere near Johnny's armpit.

"They're very pretty," Johnny says, awkwardly patting Kaner's gelled hair.

A little while later, they decide to split a cab home. Johnny doesn't put his arm around Kaner or anything like that, just gives him a friendly punch in the shoulder as he gets out. That's normal.

What isn't normal, he thinks to himself, as he takes the elevator up to his apartment, is the sheer amount of time he's been spending lately thinking about what's normal. That's weird, so he needs to stop.

Except what if he does something dumb like compare Kaner to a _bird_ again? Shit. Maybe he can just play it off as drunk feelings.

But he doesn't just have these feelings when he's drunk, is the awful part. Lately, every time he sees Kaner, he has thoughts like that -- about how Kaner is so fucking good at hockey, and how much fun it is to watch him, and how much he wants...

Well. Things. He wants things that he doesn't even want to think about.

Inside, he fills a Nalgene with water and uses it to take a B-complex vitamin, then sits down on the edge of his bed. Johnny's not sure when the switch flipped. One day, he and Kaner were best friends, and the next...

Johnny strips off his polo shirt, balls it up, and throws it into the far corner. It's like that one episode of How I Met Your Mother he saw in a hotel room late at night, where the one guy is trying to lie and forgets what he usually does with his hands. What the hell does Johnny do with his hands when he's around Kaner? How close does he usually stand?

He takes off the rest of his clothes and flops backwards on the bed. He knows how close he wants to stand: close enough to smell Kaner under his terrible cologne. And he can think of a few things he'd like to do with his hands, too: cup Kaner's pointy chin and run his thumb over the invisible stubble, grab a handful of his ass, wrap his fingers around his dick, open him up until he begs for more...

That last one is definitely past the buddies line, Johnny's pretty sure.

His dick is starting to get interested in this train of thought. Maybe he'll try fingering himself again. The last time he tried, it was nothing to write home about, but, well, he's been drinking. That makes a lot of things easier.

Johnny reaches under the mattress for the bottle of lube he hides there, then pours some out into his hand. If he keeps thinking about Kaner... God, he has embarrassing taste. But this time, when he rubs one fingertip cautiously around his hole, it feels kind of good.

He slides it in, and that's even better, like a weirdly pleasant burn. The burn makes him think of stubble burn, like what would happen to the insides of his thighs if Kaner gave him a really enthusiastic blowjob, and he groans.

It would be so good. Well, no. Probably Kaner would be terrible at it. Johnny puts in another finger, clenching experimentally, and why does thinking about how bad Kaner probably is at head make him so hard?

He'd be really cocky about it, though, even if he didn't know what he was doing. And if there's one thing Kaner can do, it's force himself to get good at what he wants to do. If he wants to be good at blowjobs...

Johnny crooks his fingers, and oh, God, that's good. He rocks his hips up to meet his own thrust, trying to find that spot again. Kaner would find it, just another way to drive Johnny crazy, oh, _God_. He grabs his dick and barely has to touch it before he comes, hard.

Well, that's embarrassing. Johnny rolls his eyes at himself, then gets up to clean off. He probably killed some really important brain cells with tequila tonight.

***

The next morning, Johnny wakes up to a text from Kaner demanding he come work out at his place.

_Fine,_ he texts back. _When?_

_Put ur dick in ur pants & come over!!_

Johnny doesn't dignify that with a reply text, just pulls on his workout gear and heads out. He could walk, but it's so hot it would be like doing bikram yoga. Maybe Lucic and Thornton like that, but Johnny's not in the mood. He'd rather drive.

The guy at the entrance to Kaner's parking garage knows him, so he doesn't have to pay or anything. Johnny waves to him as he gets into the elevator.

Kaner opens the door before Johnny even knocks. "Hey, bud!" He pulls Johnny in for a hug, complete with bro-pats, even though he's just wearing his boxers.

"I put on pants," Johnny points out.

"Good work," Kaner says. "I'm proud of you."

"Have you started doing cardio in your shorts instead of tights?"

"They're not tights, they're _leggings_ ," Kaner says.

"That's not better," Johnny says. "Neither of them counts as pants."

"Did you learn that from my sisters? Anyway, you like my lack of pants." Kaner turns around and shakes his ass at him.

Johnny gazes back impassively. "If you say so."

"I do say so." But Kaner disappears into his bedroom anyway, and emerges a minute later in workout clothes.

It's a good workout. They curse each other out inventively to make sure they're working hard enough, and this time, Johnny doesn't even resort to French. (Kaner is convinced that French is cheating. Johnny doesn't see why Kaner's lack of education should be any advantage. He doesn't like to think about why he gives in.)

Once they're finished, Johnny flops on Kaner's couch like a limp noodle.

"Get up!" Kaner demands. "I don't want to wash your sweat off my couch. Go shower."

"Your couch is easy to clean," Johnny points out. "I have the same one." But he gets up anyway. "Where's the stuff I left here?"

"Guest bathroom, where you left it," Kaner says, peeling off his Underarmour shirt as he heads towards his own bathroom.

Johnny definitely doesn't even think about jerking off in Kaner's shower. He just showers the sweat off as fast as he can, then gets dressed in the spare set of clothes he left behind at Kaner's a while ago. They smell like Kaner's detergent.

When he gets back out to the living room, Kaner's shirtless again. "Do you not believe in shirts anymore?" he asks.

"Maybe I'm trying to seduce you," Kaner says. He's fiddling aimlessly with the remote.

"You're not very good at it." Johnny sits down at the other end of the couch.

"I'm working my way up to full power." Kaner flops back against the armrest with his arms spread wide and flashes a cheesy grin. "You can't handle the whole experience yet."

"Sure," Johnny says. He stares at Kaner as blankly as he can. "It's not like we've known each other for years, or anything."

"Yeah, but I haven't spent five years trying to seduce you." Kaner wiggles his eyebrows.

"Good," he says. "I'd hate to think that was you trying."

"It wasn't." Kaner scoots a little closer. "I think you'll notice when I'm trying."

"Will I," Johnny says.

And then Kaner gets up off the couch. "Probably," he says, and he disappears into his room. When he comes back out, he's wearing a T-shirt. He shoves NHL 12 into the Xbox and tosses Johnny a controller.

He catches it, barely. "What, give up already?"

"Nah. Some of us just understand the value of..." He pauses. Johnny holds his breath, hating himself for it. "Anticipation." Kaner winks.

Johnny rolls his eyes. "That's awful," he says.

"You keep telling yourself that," Kaner says. "I call Datsyuk!"

***

Six beers, four Gatorades, two boxed chicken dinners, and three games of NHL 12 later, Johnny says, "I should probably go."

Kaner cracks his neck. "Yeah, I guess. Gotta get your beauty sleep."

Johnny stands up, and Kaner does too. "I can find the door," Johnny points out.

"I know," Kaner says, but he walks him to the door anyway, and when Johnny reaches for the handle, Kaner grabs it first.

"What are you doing?" Johnny asks. Kaner doesn't answer, just reaches up with his free hand, tangles it in Johnny's hair, and brushes their lips together.

"That," Kaner says, and he opens the door and shoves Johnny out.

He stumbles right into the opposite wall, he's so surprised. It feels like there was a tiny earthquake, just big enough for him. What just happened? "Kaner!" he yells, knocking on the door.

"Good ni-ight!" Kaner yells back in a sing-song voice.

Johnny storms back down to the garage. What the hell is wrong with Kaner? Kissing him goodnight and kicking him out? Who does that? Is Kaner serious? Since when are they serious about stuff like that?

He waves at the garage attendant on his way out, even though he's muttering curses in French as he drives. Fucking Kaner. He's probably just trying to get into Johnny's head. Maybe he's planning some kind of prank.

That's got to be it. He can't be serious, so it must be a prank. Satisfied with his deduction, Johnny drives the rest of the way home almost smiling.

Back at home, Johnny thinks about who to text to figure this out. He settles on Sharpy and Shawsy, since his chances of getting anything other than a terrible joke out of Hayes are slim to none.

_What's up w/Kaner,_ he texts to both of them.

_idk i think he's in chi-town,_ Shawsy texts back, then, _r u xcited about the con!_

Johnny rolls his eyes. _Yeah he's here. Should be fun times._ That was helpful.

_why, trouble in paradise?_ Sharpy texts.

_What r u planning_

_so young & so cynical_

_Tell me the plan sharpy_

_no plan. but that's what i'd say either way, isn't it?_

_I hate you_

_love & kisses_

Johnny slams the phone down on the counter. Fuck Sharpy anyway. He's probably the worst alternate captain ever. No loyalty.

It's late. He really does need to get some sleep.

For a while, he lies in bed, arms crossed over his chest. He's not going to jerk off to Kaner. He's just not. Except he's hard in his boxer briefs, and he's wide awake, and lying still and staring at the ceiling isn't going to help with either of those.

Fine. _Fine._ It was probably part of a prank that nobody will tell him about, but it's not like anybody has to know. Johnny sighs and reaches down to his dick, letting himself think about Kaner kissing him.

His grip is dry and almost painful, but Johnny's too pissed at himself to get lube out. Kaner's lips were dry, too, but it was such a smooth fucking move. He just grabbed Johnny's hair and kissed him, just like that. Johnny thinks he understands how Bäckström felt after that shootout goal at the end of the season: like Kaner's turned the whole world upside down.

It's a prank, it's a _prank_ \-- but what if it isn't? Johnny grits his teeth and jerks faster. This is his fantasy. He can pretend it's for real if he wants to. He can admit he wants to pretend it's real in his own head, for fuck's sake.

And he does. Fuck, he does. He wants Kaner to mean it. All that stupid talk about trying to seduce him -- he wants Kaner to want him, to think about doing shit like that all the time.

Johnny rubs his thumb over the head of his dick and thinks about kissing Kaner himself. He wants to press him up against the wall, so they don't have to waste energy on things like standing up, and take his time.

Probably Kaner would make dumb noises, and laugh at him. Johnny strokes himself behind the balls, thinking of it. He could bite Kaner's lower lip and shut him up, rub up against him, press their dicks together until they're almost ready to come in their pants.

God, he wants it so much. He wants _Kaner_ so much. And what if --

Johnny squeezes his eyes shut and comes. There. That's over with. Now he can move on with his life and do important things, like sleep.

***

But the best-laid plans of mice and men get fucked up by assholes like Patrick Kane. Johnny wakes up to banging on the door and his phone ringing, and when he finds the phone, it's Kaner.

"What?" he demands.

"Let me in," Kaner says, still banging away. Now Johnny can hear it in stereo. "I'm at your door.'

"I thought I had security to keep riffraff like you out," he grumbles, heading for the door. "They're not getting a Christmas bonus this year."

"They just love me," Kaner says. "Like everyone does.

"In your dreams," Johnny says as he opens the door.

Kaner looks him sleazily up and down. "Not bad," he says. "See how much fun it is to hang out in your underwear?"

"Come in so I can shut the door." Johnny deliberately ignores everything Kaner said, as usual. "What are you even doing here?"

"We're going to watch 21 Jump Street," Kaner says.

Johnny doesn't remember agreeing to that, but okay, fine. "I'll go put on a shirt."

Kaner shrugs. "If you insist," he says.

Johnny scowls and goes into his room, where he pulls on a polo shirt and shorts. He's not going to let Kaner get to him. He's just not.

Back in the living room, Kaner is bent over at the DVD player. Johnny spares a moment for an appreciative glance -- Kaner's ass really is nice -- and then drops down onto the couch. "Don't break it," he says.

"I know how to work your DVD player," Kaner says.

"Good." Johnny crosses his arms over his chest.

Kaner gets the movie started, then flops down next to Johnny, closer than usual. "You'll like it," he says.

"If you say so."

"I do say so." He says it in a sort of weird voice, kind of husky, and Johnny glances over at him. Kaner is looking up at him through his eyelashes. It makes him look almost pretty, and Johnny is horrified at himself for thinking that. "Hi," he says.

"What do you want?" Johnny asks, a little more harshly than he means to.

"What do _you_ want?" Kaner shoots back.

"I asked you first." He's not going to break first. That is just not going to happen.

Weirdly, though, Kaner doesn't do any of the things Johnny expects him to. He looks down at his lap, where he's twisting his hands together, and says, "You're my best friend, Tazer."

"Obviously," Johnny says. "Was that a question?"

Kaner lets out a breath, like he's relieved or something. "Good. No matter what, right?"

"You've done plenty of dumb shit before," Johnny says. "What brought this on? Are you dying or something? Did another one-night stand take pictures of you?"

"I haven't done anything stupid _yet_ ," Kaner says. "I just... there's something stupid I want to do."

"How stupid?" Johnny asks. There's a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, like this is a bad idea, but he doesn't manage to stop himself. It's probably Kaner's influence.

Kaner looks back up at him. "This stupid," he says, and kisses him.

This time, Johnny doesn't let him pull away. He grabs the back of Kaner's neck to hold him in place and kisses back, hard, slanting his mouth against Kaner's.

When they break apart, panting, Johnny stares at Kaner like maybe he can read his mind through his eyes. If this is a prank, he'll kill him, and no one will blame him.

"Maybe that wasn't so stupid," Kaner says. His mouth is red and shiny; as Johnny watches, he wipes it with the back of his hand. "Hey, Johnny. Say something."

"Something," Johnny says, deadpan. "Kaner. Why did you do that?"

"Why do I do anything?" Kaner says. "I wanted to."

"You wanted to kiss me?" Johnny surreptitiously pinches the inside of his arm, as if he's afraid he's dreaming. Maybe he is. He's not sure what he's thinking.

Kaner rolls his eyes. "Yeah," he says. "Look, I -- you're my best friend."

"You already said that," Johnny says.

"Let me finish! You're my best friend, okay, and I don't want to lose... you know, the whole yelling at each other and hanging out thing."

"Me neither," Johnny says.

"I just, sometimes I also want to do gay shit with you." Kaner rubs at the back of his neck, where Johnny was holding him. "That's why, you know... I said shit about seducing you, and kissed you, and all. Because I wanted to."

"Oh," Johnny says. "Well."

"I want to do it again," Kaner says, "so if you have, like, objections, speak now."

"I don't have any objections," Johnny says.

"Good," Kaner says, and he climbs into Johnny's lap, straddling him. Johnny looks up at him, and Kaner smiles, his real smile, like he's about to go out on the ice. Somehow, Johnny finds that comforting -- like this might not be so different from everything else they've done.

Then Kaner bends his head down to Johnny's, and they're kissing again. Johnny holds the back of Kaner's neck like before, only he's not sure if he's trying to direct the kiss or hold onto Kaner or what. He just doesn't want to stop, ever.

Kaner moves down to his jaw, then his throat, and says, "This could be better," his voice rumbling against Johnny's throat.

"Sure," Johnny says. "You could be hotter. Ow!"

"No, I couldn't," Kaner says.

"Don't pinch me," Johnny says.

"Don't pretend you don't think I'm hot," Kaner retorts. He grinds his hips down against Johnny's dick, and the friction feels so good he's almost dizzy with it.

"Maybe," Johnny says. "But it's probably residual brain damage from the concussion."

Kaner rolls his hips again. "I think you were always brain damaged. _Anyway_ , this would be better if we weren't wearing pants."

"Good point," Johnny admits. "You have to get off of me first, though."

"Your wish is my command," Kaner says with a completely unattractive wink. He climbs off Johnny and strips off his shorts and T-shirt.

"Keep going," Johnny says. He folds his arms behind his head, lounging, and raises his eyebrows.

"Ooh, kinky," Kaner says. He does a little shimmy in his boxers -- are those broomsticks printed on them? -- then peels them down off his hips. His dick bobs up against his abs, flushed dark. Johnny's mouth almost waters.

"Now you," Kaner directs. Johnny gets up and shucks off his shirt, then his shorts and underwear, and sits back down.

Kaner looks down at Johnny, then further down at Johnny's dick. His pupils are dilated. "I want to suck you off," he says.

"Okay," Johnny says. "I bet you're terrible at it."

"I bet I'm not," Kaner says, and he gets down on his knees. Johnny swallows reflexively. Kaner gives him another one of those grins, then sort of mouths at the head of his dick.

"It's not an ice pop, Kaner," Johnny growls.

"Trust me, I know," Kaner says, and then he swallows him down, fuck, all the way down.

"This isn't your first time," Johnny says. Kaner gives him a look that plainly says _You're a fucking idiot_. "I don't mind," he clarifies. "I mean, you can do what you want."

Kaner pulls off, and Johnny almost wants to whine. "I want," he says, "to suck your dick."

"I'm not complaining," Johnny says quickly.

"Good. Because I might want to do it again."

Kaner sucks him down again, just as Johnny repeats, "Might?" But this time Kaner doesn't say anything, just hollows his cheeks, and Johnny is too busy enjoying it to worry about the past or the future.

Through sheer force of will, he manages not to come right away. Letting Kaner know how bad he wants it can't possibly end well. Somewhere, Kaner picked up the skill of deep-throating, and he plays with Johnny's balls exactly the right amount, and it's just... wow.

Finally, he feels like he's either going to come or die. Johnny grits out, "Kaner," through his teeth.

"Want to come on my face?" Kaner asks.

"Jesus," Johnny says, and he does, striping Kaner's cheek and mouth. "Warn a guy before you say that shit."

Kaner licks the come off his lips. "I'll keep that in mind," he says, and Johnny refuses to feel warm and fuzzy.

"What do you want?" he asks, noticing how Kaner's hand is wandering down to his dick.

"Jerk me off?" Kaner says, like it's a question.

"Get up here," Johnny says. Kaner gets up kind of awkwardly, like his knees are stiff, or like he isn't sure what to do, so Johnny pats the couch next to him. When Kaner sits down, Johnny shoves him so his legs are up on the cushions, then puts his own legs up too, so they're stretched out together, and Kaner is pressed between the back of the couch and Johnny.

"Hi," Kaner says, and Johnny wraps a hand around his dick and kisses him.

"Hi," Johnny says back. He reaches up to wipe the rest of the come off Kaner's face and uses that to slick his way. Kaner's dick is totally unremarkable, except for how it's Kaner's -- and Johnny immediately wants to punch himself for thinking something that sappy. Instead, he kisses Kaner again and keeps working his dick.

"Johnny, "Kaner says, and groans. He's noisy, which is exactly what Johnny would have expected, if he'd thought about it. And when he comes after just a few more strokes, he's shameless about it, saying, "God, Johnny, you're so hot, fuck."

Johnny grabs his shirt from where it's draped over the back of the couch and wipes their stomachs off, then drops it to put an arm around Kaner's waist. "Do you get off on giving head?" he asks.

"Sometimes," Kaner says through a yawn. "Hot, right?"

Johnny doesn't want to admit it. "I'll keep that in mind," he says instead, echoing Kaner.

"Good," Kaner says. He lies there for a minute, letting Johnny hold him, then abruptly says, "I should go."

"Oh," Johnny says. "Right."

"I'm meeting Bolly and Julia for lunch," Kaner says apologetically.

Johnny gets up. "We'll watch the movie some other time, then," he says, pulling on his underwear.

"Yeah, definitely." Kaner scrambles to his feet and starts getting dressed. When he's done, he stops in front of Johnny and says, "Um."

"What?"

Kaner puts one hand on the side of Johnny's face and kisses him. It's a good kiss, long and deep and wet, and Johnny wants to melt into it. After a minute, Kaner pulls back and stares at him. Johnny stares back, determined not to break first. Finally, Kaner says, "Bye, Tazer," and leaves.

Once he's gone, and the sound of his footsteps has died away, Johnny sits back down on the couch and drops his head into his hands. What is he doing? What is _Kaner_ doing? This doesn't seem like just bros. He has no idea what's happening, and he doesn't like that.

Bolly might know, if he's hanging out with Kaner, but then again, with the wedding coming up, he might not be thinking of anything else. Also, he might just stare blankly at Johnny and then laugh like a psycho, whether or not he knows anything, but that has nothing to do with the wedding -- just Bolly being Bolly.

No, he has to figure this out himself. Johnny rubs his temples and sits up. So Kaner wanted to kiss him, and wanted to suck his dick, and he said he wanted to do stuff like that _sometimes._ That's a little far to go for a prank, even for Kaner. So that means... what, exactly? Was Kaner serious when he said he just wanted to?

And anyway, doing things just because you feel like it is no basis for a... for anything. This is ridiculous. He's going to go work out.

***

Later that evening, Johnny is nursing a beer and considering watching a movie -- not 21 Jump Street -- when his phone rings.

It's Sharpy. "What's up?"

"Why did you think there was a prank going on?" Sharpy asks.

"I have my reasons," Johnny says.

Sharpy snorts. "James Bond you're not," he says.

"Shaken, not stirred."

"That wasn't even good. Tell me, Captain Serious."

"Some stuff Kaner said," Johnny says.

"What kind of stuff?" Sharpy presses. "You should tell me."

"Why?" The more Sharpy talks, the less he wants to tell him anything.

"I'm just wondering if it has anything to do with Kaner's thing for you."

Johnny drops the phone, and curses at it. When he picks it back up, Sharpy says, "So I'll take that as a yes?"

"Shut up," Johnny says. "What do you mean, Kaner's thing for me?"

"You owe me twenty bucks," Sharpy yells away from the phone.

"I thought Tazer was smarter than that!" Abby shouts back. "Tell him he's not allowed to hold Madelyn again until he grows a brain!"

"I don't even want to hold your baby," Johnny says. "Also, you're an asshole."

"Sticks and stones, Tazer," Sharpy says.

Johnny pauses for a moment, toying with a bottlecap. "So he's serious?"

"Nobody's serious compared to you."

"Fine, I don't care anyway."

"Oh, don't be like that. Lighten up a little," Sharpy says, for probably the eight thousandth time. "What did he tell you?"

"Kaner stuff," Johnny says. "He does what he wants."

"Yeah," Sharpy says. "He does." There's a weird emphasis on his words.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Let me respond to your question with a question of my own," Sharpy says. Johnny can almost see him, leaning back in his chair, like he thinks he's a professor or something. "What does Kaner want?"

Johnny's about to make a crack about, he doesn't know, cheap booze and loose women, but he stops. That's what it seems like sometimes, but it's not true. "Hockey," he says.

"Yeah," Sharpy says. "And you."

"You're joking," Johnny says.

"No. And I don't usually like to threaten people, but if you fuck Kaner up, I'll do something a lot worse than make you hold Madelyn."

Sharpy's voice is soft, yet somehow incredibly menacing. Johnny refuses to let himself shiver or anything stupid like that.

"I'll take your silence as assent," Sharpy says then. "I'm going to go have spectacular sex with my beautiful, loving wife now."

"I hope your dick falls off," Johnny says, and he hangs up.

Kaner wants him like he wants _hockey?_ That's -- that is not what Johnny was expecting to hear, at all. But he liked hearing it.

He'd rather hear it from Kaner.

***

"Kaner," Johnny calls. "Let me in!"

"Hold your horses!" Kaner yells back. When he opens the door, Johnny crowds him inside and pushes him up against it by the shoulders. "Whoa. Hi," he says, looking up at Johnny.

"Hi," Johnny says, and he presses his mouth to Kaner's. He doesn't know how to say the sappy things part of him kind of wants to, but if he can make Kaner get it like this...

Kaner pushes him away, then pulls him closer so their foreheads touch. "So when you said I was like a bird," Kaner says, "what you meant was that you think my voice is like windchimes and you want to be my marble-chiseled lover for the rest of time?"

"Absolutely not," Johnny says. "What? No."

"Are you saying you want to fuck me into the mattress?" Kaner suggests. "Like, on a regular basis, maybe?"

Johnny rocks his hips against Kaner's. "Yeah," he says.

"Good," Kaner says. "Because that's what I want."

"Want like you want a beer?" Johnny asks. "Or like a gold medal?"

Kaner looks at him like he's an idiot. "It's _you_ , Tazer," he says. "You're like the gold medal of people."

Jesus. So Johnny kisses him again, until Kaner is groaning and bucking forward against him.

"I have a bed," Kaner says. "It's a really nice bed."

"Sure you don't want to fuck right here?" Johnny asks.

Kaner looks like he's thinking about it. "Bed first," he says. "We can try door sex later."

In Kaner's room, Johnny drives his fingers deep into Kaner, getting him slick and open, while Kaner chants, "Fuck, fuck, Tazer, fuck," and presses back against him. Johnny's still fully dressed; Kaner's pants are shoved down around his ankles, but that's it. Johnny can't be bothered to waste time on shit like taking off clothes when he wants to be inside of Kaner.

"Hurry up," Kaner demands. "Fuck, Johnny, fucking fuck me already!"

"Get the condom open," Johnny says, nodding towards it. Kaner tears it open and holds it out; Johnny rolls it on and nudges the head of his dick against Kaner's hole.

Kaner pushes back against him. " _Johnny_ ," he says, and apparently that's all Johnny needs to convince him. He holds onto Kaner's hips and thrusts in, and oh, fuck, it's good.

"Kaner," he says.

"Yeah," Kaner says. "Johnny, come on, please --"

Johnny has that bird-fluttering feeling in his chest again. It goes well with the feeling of Kaner clenching tight around his dick. He thinks he could get used to it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Why Do Birds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533080) by [exmanhater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmanhater/pseuds/exmanhater)




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